


Super Bowl Five-0: Aftermath

by caliecat



Series: Jerseytude [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Food, Gen, Humor, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-17
Updated: 2011-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-15 18:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caliecat/pseuds/caliecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny discovers what game was really played on Super Bowl Sunday. Part 2 of the Jerseytude trilogy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Super Bowl Five-0: Aftermath

"Rough night, partner?"

Danny was greeted by Steve's smirk as he dragged himself through the doorway, squinting his eyes against the flourescent lights. Chin and Kono stood next to him around the large central table wearing equally amused smiles.

"Please," Danny said, putting up his hand. "Don't start, okay?"

The telephone had broken his sleep at five when his brother, Mr. Jets Fan, called to gloat, insisting on a play-by-play review before he let Danny go. Thirty minutes later his mother called, wanting to know how the party was and had he made any new friends. Now he was dead tired.

Steve slid around the table until he was in Danny's face. "You know, for someone who said he didn't care about the score, you were pretty wound up yesterday."

"I was trying to make it fun for Grace. Because it was a party, where you're supposed to have fun, assuming you even know what that means when it doesn't involve explosions and assault teams."

"So Grace had fun?"

Danny heard the weight behind the casual question. "Yes, Steven, Grace had fun at a party at your house, are you happy now?"

Steve gave him that big dopey grin that made you want to kiss him and punch him at the same time. "I am, thank you."

"Which reminds me," Danny said as he turned to Kono. "Was it necessary for you to teach my little girl all those team chants or war cries or whatever you called them? The entire way home she yelled in my ear at full volume so she could, and I quote, 'make Kono proud of me'. It was a long drive, to say the least."

He rubbed his temples gingerly. Even four ibuprofen couldn't kill this headache.  "I just think that Grace shouldn't—"

"Shouldn't what, _brah_?" Kono said, crossing her arms and tilting her head. She looked like she was sighting Danny down a rifle scope. "Shouldn't enjoy a game with the guys? Shouldn't support her team? Or it's okay as long as she's on the sidelines with the cheerleading squad?  Or maybe you'd like the girls to stay off the field altogether and—"

"Cuz," Chin said softly and she stopped, her eyes spitting fire.

Danny backed up a few steps. Sometimes he forgot how easily Kono could slide from sunny dimples to trained killer. "Okay, okay, that's not what I meant. I am a progressive father and I am raising my daughter to be anything she wants, no limitations, no—"

"Whatever," Kono said, waving him off.

Steve cleared his throat diplomatically. "At least the game proved one thing. Your quarterback can so _not_ kick my ass."

"What does that even mean?" Danny waved his hands in the air, incredulous." _You_ weren't playing."

"That's not really the point now, is it?" Steve clapped him on the back. "Anyway, thanks again for all the food. I'll be in my office". He glared at Kono and Chin before he left. "Some of us have work to do."

Chin stepped back from the table. "Right, so I guess we should go—"

"Wait a minute," Danny said. He needed to appease Kono first—she could be dangerous when given time to brood over imagined grievances. "So, dinner was good, right? You liked everything?"

"Sure, Danny. It was great," Kono said. "We all appreciated the work you put into it, really, it was—" She broke off, coughing harshly until she got herself back under control. Chin shot her one of those looks where nothing on his face moved but messages were sent all the same.

Danny noticed. "What the hell was that?"

"What?" Kono was all big eyes and innocence.

"That look." His eyes shifted between Kono and Chin. "You're making fun of my cooking? I'll have you know that back home I am considered an excellent cook."

Chin placed a calming hand on his arm. "We're sure—"

"I'm an amazing cook." Danny shrugged off Chin's hold and lifted his chin with pride. "I've won contests with those meatballs.  My brisket would bring tears to your eyes. The problem with you two is that you can't even recognize decent food because you're stuck out here three thousand miles from anything resembling normal civilization."

He started counting on his fingers. "Let's see, first of all there's not even one half-way acceptable Italian restaurant on this island. Not one. How is that possible?  Second, is the concept of bread really that hard to master? I couldn't get a proper sub roll around here if my life depended on it."

"And you!" He whirled on Kono, pointing in her face. "You eat Spam rolled up in _seaweed_ like it's four-star French cuisine. You are in no position to judge my cooking."

Kono shook her head. "No, your food's great Danny, really. And you were so generous to do all that—" Then she collapsed into giggles, unsuccessfully stifling them with a hand clapped over her mouth. Even Chin was cracking a smile.

Danny felt his blood pressure rising. "Then what's your problem?"

Chin and Kono exchanged another cryptic look. "Seriously, _poke_?" Chin asked, one eyebrow raised.

" _Po-key_ ," Danny parroted. "What a stupid name. Isn't that's the raw fish thing that looks like the bait I use to catch flounder? Who wants to eat that crap at a Super Bowl party?"

"So that list looked okay to you?"

 _"Detective_ ," Kono added under her breath, rolling her eyes.

"What is wrong with all of you?" Danny threw out his arms in confusion. "Steve was going to make these weird and completely inappropriate dishes and even if you don't care about that I have to consider Grace's welfare. She needs to stay close to her roots or else she'll turn out like, well, like you." He pointed back at Kono.

"Forget it, man," Chin said. "Look, we need to get going, we have those, uh, witness interviews, so...." He trailed off, tugging Kono with him to the door. "Thanks again, really, we'll see you later." Muffled laughter floated back from the hallway in their wake.

Danny shook his head--those two had always been a mystery--and walked back to his office to start on his own paperwork.

Three minutes later his head snapped up.

He replayed the morning's conversation, then recalled exactly what was on the original list Steve gave him, a list that had apparently been prepared well in advance of their little talk in Danny's office. And then reran his memory of Steve's actions and reactions, paying careful attention to facial expressions and body language.

He hadn't solved 87 homicide cases because of sheer dumb luck. The facts shifted themselves into evidence and theories, all leading to one inescapable conclusion.

 _Fuck. Fuck him. Fuck all of them_.

Danny exploded out of his chair, intent on marching into Steve's office and delivering another right hook. No doubt it would bring even more satisfaction than the first one. He was halfway out the door when he stopped dead in his tracks.

What had Chin said once, when they were discussing martial arts? Something about turning your opponent's energy back against him and using it to your advantage.  Turning strength into weakness. Must more effective than a direct attack.

He took a few deep breaths, waiting for his heart rate to drop, then dropped back into his chair where he grabbed a pad and pen and started his own list, writing furiously.

So they want Jersey? He'll give them Jersey, he'll give them so much Jersey their heads will spin. And he was relentless, like a dog with a bone. He wouldn't stop until he achieved his final goal:  
 

 _Jersey Five-0_


End file.
